


The Sparrowfeathers Cafe

by MegumitheGreat



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Customer Service, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Slow Build, coffee shop AU, foodporn, realistic fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 07:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17545613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegumitheGreat/pseuds/MegumitheGreat
Summary: Rose is a barista in her cafe, and one day a blind man comes in to evaluate her drinks.





	The Sparrowfeathers Cafe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InThoseStarrySkies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InThoseStarrySkies/gifts).



> Right, so to start, this story is based largely on when I was a barista for a small family-owned cafe. It was honestly the best job I had, so writing it brought a tear to my eye. So a lot of the details are stemmed from what I learned. The foods...uh, that was based more on One Hundred Foot Journey and Ratatouille and Great British Bake Off. I don't actually know if any of the things mentioned would taste good, but uh...one day I'll try them.

Just another day. The morning sun was washing up along the cobblestone streets and breaching through the thin branches of the little trees along the sidewalk. It reflected off the mist, creating soft gradients in midair that seemed like right out of a fairytale. The weather was pleasant—not too hot or cold, not too muggy or dry, a slight breeze rustled the trees ever so slightly. The couple of stray cats hung around the front of the Sparrowfeathers coffee lounge when she arrived.

She was a young girl no older than twenty, but she never told anyone what her actual age was. Rose-red hair and periwinkle eyes, she always had a mischievous smile. The young girl’s name was the same as the flower and her hair. Nowadays, she often thought, her name was something of a rarity, which made her feel more prideful in who she was.

She had been working at the coffee shop for some time now. She had learned every coffee thanks to the owners and practically perfected her techniques. She smelled the beans to determine their roast and which brands were best. She knew that she couldn’t grind too many at once or else they would lose their flavor and result in flat coffees. She always kept an eye out for which flavors would sell big at certain times in the year. And, after many grueling hours and days and weeks and months of practice, she could name and make every coffee known to the most professional of gourmet baristas.

Naturally, she was eager to make and sell her drinks while the owners made small pastries and cakes to go with them. And Rose had utmost confidence that she could always give a good recommendation. A café con leche? Something tart to balance with the sweetness. A café noisette? Perhaps something using cookie butter to counteract the bitter sting of the espresso. On days where there were little to no customers, she found herself trying to think of new drinks. Sweetened condensed milk mixed with espresso and no milk. Red Madagascar vanilla mixed with honey. Hazelnut black coffee mixed with a shot of chocolate sauce.

“Oh, that one would be a hit!” she would say when she was sure it was something they could sell.

On the day that she had thought the combination, she had decided to put it on the menu—with approval, of course. She called it the Ferrero Rocher cup. It was possibly a copyright issue, but it was only for a day to see if it would stick.

Rose went about her morning routine that day. She filled the water decanters to the brim, restocked on cups of all sizes, placed napkins on the little tables, and wiped every surface. She made a few pitchers of tea and brewed fresh coffee. The owners were baking and making finger foods in the back. Once all stations were prepared, she stood at the counter and waited with her award-winning smile.

Customers usually came in an hour into the work day. People running late and couldn’t make a cup for themselves at home, friends looking for a place to sit down and chat—she enjoyed serving and observing them. It was how she learned to attract more customers. Be cute, be flirtatious, be out of this world—that was her mantra, and oftentimes it worked. She was already persuasive like it was an innate talent.

Every day, the owners thanked her for her hard work before going their separate ways for the evening. And every morning, it was the same thing. Sometimes, Rose did wish for different things to happen. She loved the customers, but she wasn’t a fan of mundane life. She wanted something to rock her world. And that something came today.

Her friend Sorey had returned from a trip to some foreign country with his boyfriend Mikleo. They were like the two gay uncles that drank fine wine and always seemed to be in a different country every week except they were around her age and not very fond of alcohol.

“We went to Paraguay last week, and it was pretty awesome!” Sorey told her. He showed her pictures on his phone of all the places he and Mikleo went. “In a couple week, we off to Peru.”

“Honestly, Sorey, how do you and Mikleo afford these trips?” Rose said to make conversation. “I mean, I could go whenever I wanted, but I can’t just leave Brad and Eguille, but the Ayn twins are supposed to be coming back today from vacation, so I guess I could take a trip.”

“Better do it while you still can,” Mikleo said, leaning on his elbows. “The sales on the tickets are about to end. If you lock in the price now, you’ll get the discount.”

“Yeah, but if I took a week or two off, chaos would ensue. Customers would go crazy.”

“Just saying.”

“Alright, alright. What can I get you? The usual?” Rose asked with a notepad in hand.

“You got it!” Sorey happily chimed. “Café con leche for me with a lemon tart, and soy latte with a bit of vanilla for Mikleo.”

“Coming right up!” Rose smiled back. She returned to the counter where the espresso machine was. She decided to take care of Sorey’s order first since the lemon tart would need to cool a little. She got to work.

She pulled the lever on the chamber three times, a tiny bit more to get just a few more grounds out. After she pressed it into the group-head so that it was compact and flat, she placed it into the machine. A small mug slid underneath the spout. Before she brewed the espresso, she got a dark blue mug with gold leaf sealed into the edges and poured a thin layer of sweetened condensed milk. She got the milk from the little fridge under the machine. Milk was best steamed in an aluminum pitcher with a lip, and once she had it ready, she pressed the button for two shots of espresso and steamed the milk at the same time. Once the espresso had finished brewing, she set the milk aside to quickly stir the caffeine portion of the drink with the liquid sugar. Then she filled the mug with the milk until just a centimeter below the brim. She heated up a lemon tart and set it next to the mug on a large saucer. Sorey’s order was done; now she had to work on Mikleo’s. His order was far simpler. Two shots of espresso, a thin layer of French vanilla syrup mixed in, and the rest was soy milk in a white mug with light blue Victorian symbols.

She brought both mugs, saucers and spoons, to Sorey and Mikleo just as the Ayn twins Felice and Talfryn walked in to work. Shortly after them, a man wearing sunglasses and using a cane to feel the ground walked in. Rose noticed his clothes. A white dress shirt covered by a wine-colored vest and black slacks. He was wearing a black beret as well. He took a seat close to the window not too far away from Sorey and Mikleo’s table.

Felice and Talfryn were still getting ready for work, so Rose took it upon herself to tend to this man’s needs. She stepped up to his table, gently touching his shoulder. Unfortunately, the man was startled and nearly struck her with his cane.

“S-Sir, hold on a second!” Rose cried out in surprise. “I just wanted to take your order!”

The man huffed like an angry cat then slowly put his cane down against the seat. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to touch a blind person?” he scolded.

“I-I’m sorry…I thought that it would let you know I was here.”

“If you want my attention, just say so.”

Rose gave him a look that he couldn’t possibly perceive before letting him know that she was ready for his order. All he said was to give him the special. The barista was taken aback; she had admittedly forgotten her concoction. She returned to her counter. She filled a dark green mug with a thin layer of chocolate syrup then pumped hazelnut coffee then added a touch more with hazelnut syrup. She steamed a little more milk and mixed in it to create her Ferrero Rocher.

She carefully brought it to him, announcing well before she reached his table that she was bringing his drink. When she sat it down in front of him, he wrapped his surprisingly supple fingers around the handle and took a sip. He smacked his lips a bit, then took another sip.

“Uh…how is it?” Rose asked.

“God, you’re still here?” the man snapped. “It’s…okay. You could improve.”

“Well, it was just an experiment.”

“I stand by my point.”

The man left after a couple more sips, yet his cup was still half-full. At the end of the day when Sorey and Mikleo had left and the Sparrowfeathers were counting their daily sales, Rose brought the cup to Eguille.

Eguille was the co-owner but operated more as a sous chef. Still, his palette was more refined than Brad’s. Rose knew he would tell her honestly what he thought about the drink. At once, he spit the drink out.

“Rose, you’re going to kill someone if you add that much syrup!” Eguille retched. “Coffee isn’t sweet!”

“I was just trying something out! I thought it was a good idea,” Rose pouted. She crossed her arms. “How do I make it better? If I can’t add the chocolate and syrup, then it’s just a hazelnut café au lait.”

“Half the chocolate then or don’t add anymore hazelnut syrup.”

“That’s boring and gross.” She sighed. “A customer tried it and said it was okay and that I could improve. I just want to know how.”

“Maybe the grounds were old?” Felice asked as she cleaned the espresso machine.

“I grinded and brewed fresh this morning.”

“It’s definitely too much syrup,” Eguille coughed.

“Ugh, I’ll just make it again tomorrow and,” she put her hands on her hips and said mockingly, “Half the chocolate.”

The next morning, Rose followed through with the new recipe. She put even less chocolate into the mug and tried it. It tasted more bitter with a hint of hazelnut sugar. Around noon, Sorey and Mikleo arrived, and after she got them their drinks, she hesitantly asked if they would like to try the Ferrero Rocher. Neither of them wanted to, but they did seem to notice that she was more flustered than usual. The man from yesterday had clearly ruffled her feathers, and they thought it was cute. She wasn’t one to get so uppity about what a customer said about her drinks.

At the same time as yesterday, the man had returned. He sat at the same table and ordered the same drink. Rose prepared it the new way. When she offered it to him, she waited to see what he thought. Again, the man smacked his lips and tongue.

“It’s worse than yesterday,” he told her with disgust. “I said you could improve. This isn’t improvement.”

“Okay, well, you didn’t tell me what I did wrong,” Rose said a little combative. “So, tell me, mister…”

“Dezel.”

“So, tell me, Mr. Dezel!”

“No, just Dezel. None of that mister crap. I may be blind, but I’m not old.” He took another sip, frowning at the mug in his hand. He set the cup down then sat motionless for a few seconds. “Put the amount of chocolate you did yesterday. Use almond milk instead of regular milk.”

Rose looked at him dubiously. The Sparrowfeathers closed a couple hours later, and once again she tried the new recipe according to what this Dezel suggested. A thin layer of chocolate and hazelnut, about three-quarter of hazelnut coffee, and fill the rest with steamed almond milk. She and Eguille tasted it, and it…it was delicious.

“How did he know what to do…?” Rose asked herself.

The Ayn twins tasted it as well. It was like heaven! How could a regular customer know how to make such a coffee? Why wasn’t he working for them?

The next day, Rose sold the recipe that Dezel had told her. There were more customers, and most of them were interested in the special. She had never seen them so happy, and she had never had them tip her so much. Sorey and Mikleo arrived again, this time ordering the special out of curiosity. Even they commended it, and it was then that they had to ask:

“So, what do you think of him?”

“E-Excuse me?” Rose stammered, her face as red as her hair.

“Oh, come on,” Sorey sighed. “It’s painfully obvious that you’re interested in him.”

“I will admit, he isn’t too bad,” Mikleo teased. Sorey was immediately distraught for fear that he would leave him for this mysterious man.

“H-He’s just a customer! Who knows how to prepare coffee!” Rose denied.

“Okay, when he shows up today, we’re going to watch you two.”

“That’s if he comes today!”

Rose returned to work to put the insinuation out of her mind. She wiped down her counters and triple checked all of her stock. The door opened, and Dezel walked in. He took a seat closer to the counter this time. He seemed somewhat agitated, but regardless, he ordered the Ferrero Rocher.

Rose delivered, and while watching the customer—who would now be considered a regular—sip the coffee, her heart beat fast. Was it good? Was it bad? Did he like it? Without realizing it, he drained the mug, a shine of his eyes somewhat visible through the sunglasses. He placed the mug down on the table. He didn’t say anything. He just left the money on the table and left.

“No comment this time?” Rose miffed.

Sorey let out a low whistle. “Maybe we got it wrong,” he said. “Maybe he’s the one that likes her.”

“Seems that way,” Mikleo said with another sip. “Better keep improving. No doubt about it—he’ll be here tomorrow, too. He’s pretty much a regular like us now, but a with a crush on the coffee girl.”

The next day, it was as Mikleo had said. Dezel had come in shortly after he and his partner sitting in a table yet closer to the counter. Rose had been busy restocking again and making sure everything could last the rest of the day. She hadn’t noticed that he was waiting for him; she still found herself somewhat hoping that he would be there when she turned around. It wasn’t good to always have her back to the customers, but there were times where it was unavoidable as she made a new pitcher of sweet tea. Sorey and Mikleo looked at each other wondering if they should signal the barista to come over to the table for him.

Instead, Dezel stood up. With his cane, he felt his way toward the counter. He listened to Rose shuffling around behind in her own world, and he was growing impatient not because he wanted something to drink or eat but because he wanted to _hear_ her voice.

“Bleh, why does this taste like straight water?” she sighed. “That’s such a waste.”

Dezel cleared his throat, though it failed to catch anyone’s attention. “Hey, you,” he sheepishly said.

Rose spun around with the pitcher of failed tea, spilling a good bit as she did. “Crap…!” she hissed. “I’ll have to clean it up later.” She approached the counter, setting the pitcher aside and sliding a notepad in front of her. “Sorry about the wait, Dezel. Things had been really busy earlier.” She straightened her hair even though she knew he couldn’t see her. She stood with confidence now that she knew what this man liked. “Ferrero Rocher again?”

“Come up with something new. Surprise me,” he replied. He handed her the cash then went back to his table.

Sorey and Mikleo first glanced at each other then at Dezel then as Rose, who gestured toward the former. Something new? He could have given her something to go on. She checked behind the counter for whatever ingredients she had. She had some new teas—was he a tea person? She could try it. There was Red Madagascar vanilla and hibiscus and a blend that Eguille had made with cardamom and ginger and anise and cinnamon. Then there was a new blend imported from the land of raj—Kashmiri tea.

“Oh god, we need a…sam…a…var to make this…what even is that?” she muttered. She followed the directions save for the _samavar_. “Okay, green tea…and milk…baking soda? Oh my god, this is it. I’m going to poison a man.”

She did the best she could to make the tea, and while it steeped, she searched for something to go with it. She tasted it to find it was salty. What would go with salty tea? She stepped into the back kitchen. There were pieces of cantaloupe and honeydew and apple and grapes mixed together with nutmeg or some spice and raisins and a bit of strawberry milk. Would it be too pink? Rose rectified herself—the man was blind, so he wouldn’t care about the appearance…right? No, regardless, presentation was a key element to food service.

She transferred the tea to a special teapot that Brad liked to use for special occasions then got one of the teacups to go with it. It had hand-painted watercolor carnations on it…to add to the already abundant amount of pink. She arranged the teapot and teacups on a small platter then made a tiny fruit bowl with strawberry milk at the bottom. She topped it off with a bit of pistachio on top. Finally, pleased with the appearance, she took it to his table.

“Okay, so what do you have this time?” Dezel asked her.

“We have Kashmiri tea and…some sort of Mediterranean fruit salad,” Rose unsurely said.

“Kashmiri tea? You know how to prepare that?”

“Sure I do!” Rose lied.

“Positive?”

“Y-Yeah!”

Dezel was dubious. After all, such teas had to be prepared a certain way to be properly enjoyed. He smelled it first. Something of a cardamom smell. He took a sip. It wasn’t terrible. The saltiness was okay. He took a longer sip then took a bite of the fruit salad.

“Well, I’m sure it was an adventure,” he finally said. “The fruit salad is turning. How long has the milk been out in it?”

“Uh…since…morning…?” Rose nervously said.

“Yeah, you need to make a new batch. The tea is decent enough. I’ll give you eighty points.”

He smiled in the direction of the tea, something that strangely made Rose flustered but happy. Since she was now receiving grades on her beverages and sides, she strived to get a full 100. For the next couple days, she stayed behind a couple hours—with permission and not on the clock—to make something that would guarantee her full marks. She didn’t really understand why she wanted to impress this man, and she wondered if he really was coming just to judge her skills or if he was trying to make conversation. It was weird, she thought, because it had only been a few days. Who became infatuated with someone in a couple days? She realized…that she did.

“W-What am I thinking…?” she mumbled. “H-He’s just a random guy…!”

She put it out of her mind as she worked on not just a beverage but on a special hummingbird cupcake with candied pineapple on top. When Dezel came in the next day, she only hoped that her hard work would pay off.

She watched the clock. Morning customers came and went. Some ordered the drink she had prepared—hibiscus tea with a slice of hummingbird cake—and she worried if she would have enough for Dezel when he arrived. She didn’t have many teabags left, and while it wasn’t hard to make the hummingbird cake, she was low on ingredients after messing up the recipe a couple times.

Sorey and Mikleo arrived, ordering the special to split between themselves when they saw how little she had left. Time passed, but Dezel hadn’t come in. The two boys sitting on the wall with their tea and cake were just as worried as she was. He was blind. What if he wandered in the opposite direction of the café or got hit by a car? All sorts of possibilities ran through the barista’s mind, some more dire than others.

Another two hours passed, and it was just before closing. Sorey and Mikleo had tried to eat slowly so they wouldn’t be seen as loiterers by other customers, but even they had reached their limit. They bid Rose farewell for the day. Aside from the rest of the Sparrowfeathers crew, she was alone in the café.

She started wiping down her counters, cleaning her machines, cleaning the tables. The door was still unlocked so she could take out the trash. She put up the chairs then prepared to start sweeping and mopping. That was when he stepped in.

His clothes were disheveled and rough up like he had gotten into a fight. There weren’t any bruises on his face, and his cane hadn’t been broken. It was really only his clothes that were out of order.

“Is the barista still here?” he panted. “I…I overslept and lost track of time.” He was almost frantic.

“Sir, we’re actually closed now,” Felice told him.

Rose skidded before him. “No, Dezel, we’ll serve you!” she hurriedly said. She looked back at Felice. “I mean, I’ll serve you.”

“Rose, we’ve got to close up. The longer we’re open, the more money we’re wasting.”

“I’ll clock out then.”

“That’s illegal You can’t work and not be paid!”

“Look,” Rose sighed. “I’ve been waiting for him all day, so please just let me take care of him.” She looked at her exhaustedly.

Felice and her brother, who came up to see what the commotion was, exchanged looks. Felice agreed to let her serve Dezel, but she tapped her wrist. “You have fifteen minutes,” she cautioned.

“I just have to sweep and mop, anyway. The espresso machine is done. Someone—Eguille can take the trash out back.” Rose turned back to Dezel. After verbally notifying him of her presence before him, she took his arm and led him to a table where the chairs were still down. “Okay, give me a second. I’ve got to go get the stuff.”

She ran back to the kitchen, poured out a cup of the hibiscus tea and cut a slice of the hummingbird cake. Once again reminding herself that he couldn’t see it, she still worked hard to make it look like something that would be found in a gourmet restaurant. Carefully, she brought the tea and cake to her judge. Setting it down in front of him, she cleared her throat and said:

“Today’s special is hibiscus tea and hummingbird cake.”

“Hummingbird cake?” Dezel said with surprise. “Not what I was expecting from a little coffee shop.” He slowly, carefully searched with his hand the handle of the fork. When he found it, he cut a small piece off. “There’s no poison in this, right?”

“W-Why would I poison anyone?” Rose asked as if insulted. Then again, that had been her fear with the Kashmiri tea.

“Relax, I’m teasing you.”

Dezel took a bite of the cake. He tasted the bananas in it mixing with the pineapple and cream cheese. There was a hint of cinnamon, but there was also nutmeg and coconut and the walnuts diced into the cake. It was a step away from a traditional hummingbird cake, but it was far more interesting than that. He felt the candied pineapple on top with his fork, and his curiosity piqued again. He bit into it, feeling it like a gummy candy in his mouth.

He then searched for the tea. It smelled fruity and floral, like the actual flower pieces were in the cup. The deep pink drink swirled around. He took a sip. It was a sweet but comforting taste. It wasn’t too tart and would have been mistaken for cranberry juice had he not detected that the flavor was less acidic than that. It had been sweetened slightly with orange blossom honey. It was still warm, and he couldn’t help but feel sleepy. He straightened up.

“Take a seat,” he said.

“Uh, okay,” Rose replied.

He leaned on one hand, taking another bite of cake then sipping the hibiscus tea so the flavors combined in his mouth. “So, your name is Rose? Why not rosehip tea?” He heard Rose ask why. “No reason. Just thought that would be your ultimate specialty.”

“Isn’t that a bit cliché?” Rose asked.

“Maybe.” He finished the cake. “So, Rose, how did you feel about making this cake?”

The barista was confused by the question. He tried to explain—how did she feel when she knew that she was making a cake solely to impress him. She had been proud at first with it, but she started to wonder why he was asking such a question.

“I…I guess I did make it to impress you…” she admitted.

“I can’t give you full marks then,” he said. “You shouldn’t be appealing to one customer. It’s a good cake, and this is good tea, but it was only for me, wasn’t it.”

“But the other customers really liked it.”

“Collateral.”

“Oh, come on…”

“Rose, if you make this same cake and tea for tomorrow, but make it for your customers and not me, we’ll see if you get full marks.”

Then Rose paused. “Why am I trying to get full marks from someone I don’t know?” she asked herself more than him.

“Maybe because I think you can do better. In fact,” Dezel began to blush before continuing. “I…I’d been looking for an excuse to visit you since the first day I came here…I really liked your voice.”

Rose burst out laughing. “It was really obvious,” she told him. She hesitated at first. She slowly placed her hand on his. “I mean, you don’t need to come up with an excuse just to come visit me.” She pulled back. “Well, um, I mean…if you want to be the tester for each special, that is…! I can arrange something!”

“Rose,” Dezel smiled at her. “I would like to—because you really need to improve.”

Rose gasped then stifled a laugh. She couldn’t tell if he seriously meant it, but she enjoyed his company. She couldn’t yet express how she felt, and while the cake was made for him, it had sparked a joy in her that was elicited when she pushed her limits and tried new things. She knew he couldn’t be hired for such a menial task, but she didn’t mind making special items for the menu if it meant that he would pass or fail them. It was a kind of support that didn’t need words except for the comments that would tell her what was good and what was bad. She took his hand in hers, and like a strong business partner, she gave him a solid handshake saying:

“Pleasure to do business with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this did get a little repetitive, but it was such a fun trip down memory lane. Thanks to InThoseStarrySkies for commenting on my Seraphim Singing at the End of the World and expressing her anguish--she's a trooper and I love her for that.
> 
> Please leave a comment and tell me what you think!


End file.
